


Where His Hands Were

by ShakeThatCocktail



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Confessions, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Ficlet, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Petting, Jealous Spencer Reid, Jealousy, Luke Alvez I Love You, Making Out, Smut, Smutty, Teasing, This Is A Luke Alvez Appreciation Fic, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29465094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakeThatCocktail/pseuds/ShakeThatCocktail
Summary: Luke saves you from an uncomfortable run-in with your ex at O'Keiffs, and it makes Spencer take action.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	Where His Hands Were

**Author's Note:**

> LUKE! ALVEZ! DESERVES! EVERYTHING!

"Next round's on me!"

Your declaration was met with a cheer from the rest of your team, Matt and Garcia banging their empty glasses on the table in glee, and you coudn't help but giggle. They all called their orders at you, and you repeated them over and over in your head as you headed to the bar, weaving your way between swaying couples and other groups of co-workers blowing off the week's steam, and flagged down the bartender.

"One bottle of house red, one sparkling water and lime, one Sex on the Beach with extra candied cherries, one double rye whiskey, two beers, and a large rosé, please," you recited, handing over your card to the bartender.

"A _large_ rosé? Sounds like someone's had a rought week."

You froze at the voice from behind you, taking in a deep, shaky breath through your nose.

\-----

"Oh no no no no!" Garcia panicked, her eyes wide in horror as she stared over the heads of her friends.

"What?" Matt asked, around the lip of his beer bottle.

"Y/N's ex is here, and he's got her at the bar," Garcia said, her eyes not leaving you as she shifted in her seat for a better view. The rest of the team followed her line of sight, Tara and Reid turning round to look over their shoulders.

"Hang on," JJ said, "is this the ex who-"

"The one and the same," Garcia confirmed, her voice quiet. "I recognise his face from his file."

"The ex who...?" Matt probed. The girls all looked at one another, silently debating whether to share the information only they'd been made privy to by you or not. It was ultimatley a firm nod from Emily that sealed their decision.

"Before Y/N joined the BAU, she dated that son of a bitch," Emily said, gesturing towards Thomas with her wine glass. "They lived together for a while too before she left him."

"Why'd she leave?" Reid asked. Despite how close he believed you two to be, you'd never mentioned that you'd lived with someone like that.

"He never hit her, although Y/N said he got close sometimes," JJ explained, taking a long sip of her wine. The table went quiet, the girls watching the boys absorb this new, heavy information. "It was predominantly emotional abuse."

"He's a textbook narcissistic abuser, totally insecure in his masculinity," Tara profiled. "He took his insecurities out on Y/N to make himself feel strong, make himself feel powerful."

"He didn't take the break up well," Garcia supplied, anxiously stirring the crushed ice in her empty glass. "He kept showing up outside her new place until she threatened him with a restraining order."

"We need to get her out of there," Spencer stated resolutely, beginning to rise from his seat before Tara placed a hand on his arm.

"Easy, doc. Think about this. He presents as an alpha male, he thinks he's better and stronger than anyone. He won't back down from someone who doesn't look like they'd pose a threat to him," she said, with a pointed look at Spencer. "I agree, we need to get her out of there, but we gotta be smart about it. If we just whisk her away, he's only going to come back again. He's not going to leave her alone," she reasoned to the team.

"It's a good point," Emily agreed. "He's not just going to let anyone take her away."

"He'll only respond to someone he thinks is an alpha male too," Luke reasoned.

"Makes sense," Matt agreed. "His insecurities and his need to prove himself means he'll only answer a challenge he thinks is worthy and will raise him up - it's all about the muscle. If someone else comes along who poses an obvious threat that he doesn't think he can meet, he'll back off. "

"Leave this to me," Luke said, rising from his seat and pushing the sleeves of his shirt up before swaggering his way over to the bar.

\-----

Your easy, good mood immediatley evaporated, the tension in your shoulders turning your muscles to concrete. Turning slowly, your stomach churning with you, you were face-to-face with Thomas Beechwood. He looked the same as he did when you'd dated, although he might've filled out a little more since the last time you'd seen him. You know, the time he'd fumed in your face, calling you a "weak little whore" and shattered your favourite glass vase against the wall of your shared apartment when you'd finally, _finally_ decided you were done. He was still dressed in his work clothes - dark suit trousers and a spotless white buttondown, the top two buttons open. The office-mandated tie was long gone.

"Thomas," you greeted, cooly. The pleasant buzz brought on only by good company and a high enough alcohol percentage fizzled out at the taste of his name in your mouth.

"You're looking good these days, Y/N," he said, and a shiver of disgust ran down your spine as you watched his eyes roam all over you. You couldn't deny you looked good, but hearing it from him made you feel all wrong. The extra training that had come with joining the BAU and the more time you were spending in the field had moulded your body into something capable and strong. It had been a day in the field, so you and your co-workers were in your "dressed down" work attire - for you, that meant a thin black pullover with a v-neck, skinny dark wash jeans, and the heeled ankle boots you'd immediatley ordered as soon as you saw Tara walk into the bullpen in them.

"Thanks," you responded blankly, turning your attention back to the bartender as they asked for your PIN number. You immediatley slid your card into your purse, fiddling about with it so you could look anywhere but at Thomas. Something was nagging at your mind though, something not quite right about this interaction. "You don't drink at O'Kieffs," you stated, turning to look at him with narrowed eyes, suddenly realising the strangeness of the situation. "You drink at The Castle down the street."

Thomas shrugged at you, subtly taking a step forward so he was at the bar alongside you. You automatically scooted away a little, your eyes tracking every little movement he made. "The guys felt like going somewhere else tonight," he explained, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the group of laughing young men, all in suits, surrouding one of the standing tables, "and we'd heard good things about this place."

"Right," you answered dumbly. The long, pregnant pause that followed was more excruciating that just being back in his presence, and you wished the bartender would hurry up with your drinks. Until they were done, you were stuck. "Everything going ok over in cyber crimes?"

"Oh yeah, there's loads going on. They've got me on so many cases I can barely keep up, but I keep everything going. It'd be hell for everyone if I wasn't there." The urge to roll your eyes was almost too strong to resist. "I couldn't believe it when I heard you'd transfered to the BAU."

You baulked a little at the patronising laugh in his voice. "Why not? You know I've always wanted to be part of the team."

"Well, y'know, you're not really...like _them_ , are you?" Thomas said, mockingly, shrugging his shoulders. "You're not exactly made of much. Not...special enough, maybe?"

You didn't get a chance to answer him as a warm mass pressed against your back.

"Hey, baby, you're taking your time." This time, your shoulders sagged in relief at the sound of the familiar husky voice behind you, and you couldn't help but raise your eyebrows in mild surprise at the feel of Luke Alvez's large, warm hands slide around your waist and pull you to his steady body. You looked up over your shoulder to see Luke smiling down at you, his pearly whites on full display. This wasn't just a smile though - this was his shit-eating grin. You knew it well.

"Hey, baby," you parroted, leaning back into him very obviously, resting your hands over the back of his. "I was just waiting for our drinks, is all."

"Sure you're not tryna hide from me?" Luke teased, burying his face in your hair. "You ok?" he whispered in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear over the indie music playing through the speakers. You giggled in response, so aware of Thomas' hard eyes watching you, nodding your head slightly as if Luke's breath tickled your neck. You could play along, you could prove Thomas wrong.

Luke removed his face from your neck and looked up, finally taking in Thomas up close and making his full judgement in a single up-and-down. "Who's this?" he asked, in not the most friendly tone, jerking his chin at your ex.

"Agent Beechwood," Thomas said, coughing pointedly over his shoulder before holding out his hand. "I work in cyber crimes. Y/N and I go way back." You stiffened slightly at that.

"SSA Luke Alvez, Behavioural Analysis Unit," Luke introduced, reaching out to only briefly shake his hand before returning it to your person. You swallowed heavily as his hands slipped from your waist and into the front pockets of your jeans, laying flat against your thighs. You were separated only by a thin layer of denim, and you were so very aware of where his hands were pressed. You scanned Thomas' reaction, watching his cold eyes zero in on Luke's trapped hands, the lack of space between your hips. His eyes flicked up to briefly meet yours, and you kept them there, unflinchingly. "Shame," Luke continued. "I can't remember if I've ever heard Y/N mention you before."

"SSA?" Thomas repeated, ignoring Luke's jab, and you watched his Adam's Apple bob, almost like he wanted to vomit at just saying the title. His painful, thinly-veiled attempt at civility was relished by Luke, and he shrugged his shoulders, his chest shifting against your back.

"Yeah, SSA," Luke confirmed. "Gotta be good enough to take care of my girl like she takes care of me."

You fought so very hard to surpress the grin that was tugging at your lips as Luke loomed over you, so subtley threatening that only a man with some serious masculinity insecurities would immediatley identify the threat he may of posed. Luke Alvez was a hundred times the alpha Thomas thought he was. You knew that if you were ever in the mood for delicious muscles that looked good in a maroon and a heart-stopping smile, you always had Alvez. It would never happen, not for real - your mind rested in between the sheets with the doctor with the messy curls and beat-up satchel, but you knew you at least the option was there.

"Need to step it up, baby, because I don't think I can remember the last time you _took care_ of me like I did you," you teased, reaching up to swipe a fingertip across Luke's stubbled jawline. You couldn't help the little flip your heart did when you saw Luke's pupils blow, the way his bottom lip softened ever so slightly. Oh, involuntary biological reactions.

"Then how about we go say goodnight to our friends," Luke suggested, his eyes briefly flicking to Thomas' stony face as he crowded over your shoulder, "so I can do something to jog your memory?"

"Sounds like a plan," you answered coyly, tilting your head back slightly, "but we should probably go give our friends their drinks first, right?"

Luke heaved a dramatic sigh. "Right," he answered, straightening up and slipping his hands from the confines of your jeans. You reached for the tray of glasses the bartender had left on the bar beside you while Luke clutched the necks of the bottles between his fingers, his free hand coming down to slip around your waist once again. "It was real nice to meet you," he said, the sarcasm dripping off his tongue, offering an eyebrow flash and a sly grin at Thomas before quickly turning you around and guiding you back through the crowd.

"You have no idea how much I love you right now," you told him once you were out of earshot, and he laughed. "You are now my number one team member."

"Oh, so I wasn't number one already?" he asked, and you tried to give him a look, but it immediatley melted at the sight of his grin. "Offer still stands if you wanna go home and be taken care of..." His hand slipped further around your waist.

"Behave," you reprimanded, without any heat, slapping his hand away as you got closer to your table.

"She's been saved!" Garcia cried dramatically, as you returned to your friends, you and Luke placing the drinks on the table you were all surrounding. "Luke, you saved her!"

"That was quite the performance," Emily teased, reaching for the bottle of red to top up her's and JJ's glasses. "Do I need to call you two into my office on Monday morning for a talk?"

"Ew, no way!" you answered, scrunching your nose up at the guy who'd just saved your ass. Luke just gave you a delighted smile as he returned to his seat beside Matt.

"Oof! Harsh rejection, Alvez!" Tara winced, grinning over the rim of her whiskey.

"I'll survive." Alvez shrugged. "But you know who didn't reject me, Lewis? Your mum last night!"

The table groaned in response, and you smiled as you sat back down in your seat beside Spencer, offering him his sparkling drink. He took it with a small smile of thanks, holding it in both his dextorous hands. The pleasant buzz was starting to build beneath your skin once again.

"You ok?" he asked quietly, just for you two to hear, and you let out a long sigh.

"Yeah, I am," you answered truthfully, looking into nowhere with a small nod. "No one likes being reminded of their trauma, but I'm ok." You offered him a smile, and bumped his shoulder with yours. You held out your wine glass towards him. He cheers-ed it with his own glass, and you leant back in your chair, watching in amusement as Luke tried to take on Garcia.

\-----

"Mind if I walk you home?" Spencer gingerly asked as you shrugged on your jacket. The team was calling it a night, some with kids to go home to, others with weekend plans that needed to be prepped for. O'Keiff's had been slowly emptying the later they stayed, other patrons swaying out the doors and into the busy nighttime streets, looking for louder music and cheaper drinks.

"Um, sure," you said, offering him a small smile as your heart skipped a beat. "But don't you live in the opposite direction?"

"I do," he confessed, "but my house is only 1.2 miles from yours. Factor in the warm weather outside, the density of people out on the streets on a Friday night, and the detour I'll have to take due to the construction work taking place on Washington Street, it'll only be a thirty-four minute walk back to mine."

"Forget I even asked," you chuckled as you both made your way towards the doors, Spencer holding one open for you. "Thanks."

The air outside was balmy, the street lit up with cars, street laps, and bar fronts, and you let out a happy sigh as a warm, soft breeze brushed across your cheeks. You followed your feet, the route home already so familiar despite you not having taken it that many times. Spencer walked beside you, his hands tucked in his pockets, and you blushed at the thought of his hands in place of Luke's earlier. How much longer they'd be, the other places they seek out to touch. Speaking of Spencer, he was unusually quiet...

"You're being very quiet. What's up?" you asked, and Spencer jumped, a guilty look on his face.

"Nothing," he answered quickly, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Spencer." You didn't believe him for a second.

You watched him nervously chew his bottom lip in thought. "I don't understand why you didn't tell me about your ex, about what he did to you," he confessed, and you raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"I guess I just don't like talking about it in general," you offered, shrugging. You both turned the corner of the street, you shifting closer to him to avoid crashing into an overflowing bin, and he instinctivley placed a light, reassuring hand on your back. You shivered at the almost-touch.

"But you told Emily and JJ and Garcia and Tara about it?"

"That's because we were bitching about our exes on a girls' night and I'd had a few drinks," you explained, with a heavy sigh. Spencer nodded in understanding. "But I also didn't because I guess I didn't want you to think badly of me, that I let someone treat me like that," you continued, pausing on the pavement, crossing your arms tightly in front of your chest. Spencer was one step ahead of you, and he turned to face you, his eyebrows creased.

"I could never think badly of you," he replied, plain honesty written across his face, and the corner of your lip twitched in a smile. "People like your ex, they're not a reflection of you. You didn't let him do anything to you, he manipulated you - that's not your fault." He paused to swallow, his tongue just flicking out to wet his bottom lip. "Who you are now with him gone is the only you I think about."

You hoped the streetlights weren't bright enough for him to see the heat that rose in your cheeks, and you twisted your lips to stop from grinning. "C'mon," you said softly, jerking your head and taking a step forward. "We're almost home."

\-----

By the time you reached your front door, the last of the evening light had died, the sky a dark shade of navy. You both rode the elevator to your floor in a companionable quiet, you watching Spencer out the corner of your eye. He was still being suspiciously quiet. He let you out of the elevator first, following a step behind as you found your way to your apartment.

"Thanks for walking me home, Spencer," you said, as you fumbled for your keys in your bag.

"No problem," he replied, giving you a small smile. You returned it as you slid your door key into the lock, the door opening with a soft _pop_ as it was pushed away from its seal, revealing the dark interior of your home. "I wanted to be the one who saved you earlier."

You turned around in surprise at his sudden admission, taking in his downcast eyes, his twiddling fingers, his twitching lips. Spencer Reid was _nervous_.

"What do you mean?" you asked, leaning against your doorframe, and Spencer let out a long sigh through his nose.

"When Garcia saw you with your ex, all I wanted to do was get you out of there. But Luke did it, and he was the right choice, and I just had to sit there and watch him put his hands all over you and lean into you and I-" Spencer broke off to clear his throat, trying to rein in his frustration.

"Spencer, are you _jealous_?" you asked, pushing off the doorframe, a hint of teasing creeping into your voice. Spencer huffed in annoyance, looking anywhere but at you.

"Yes," he eventually admitted to the ceiling, his jaw tight.

You took a sauntering step closer to Spencer, stopping just short of your chests touching. You looked up at the boy genius, watching him squirm in delight. You drank in his sharp jawline, the whispy ends of his messy curls, the crooked knot in his tie, the soft pink of his lips. He still wouldn't look at you.

"Do you want to know something?" you asked, tentatively reaching a hand up to tug slightly on his tie, straightening it. His gaze snapped back to you instantly. "As much as I appreciate Luke's efforts earlier..." You pushed yourself up on your tiptoes, watching Spencer's eyes dart around your face, taking in every eyelash, every curve of your lips, every colour in your eyes. You were so close you could almost feel his breath on your nose. "I only want your hands on me in the future."

Spencer only stared at you for a split second before closing the last of the distance between you, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you like your lips held the secret to eternal life. You hands slipped up from his tie to his neck, your fingers lacing together at his nape as you couldn't help but smile against his lips. He tasted sweet and tangy, the lime from earlier still on his plush lips, and you revelled in the surprised little noise he made as your tongue swiped across his bottom lip. Your knees went weak when he retaliated with a nip, one hand moving from your cheek to your waist, pulling you closer against his lithe body. You slipped one of your hands from his neck to his hair, curling your fingers into the mess you'd been captivated by since day one.

"Spencer..." you said, breathlessly. "We should-" He caught your lips in another kiss. "Get out of...the hallway."

"Yeah, yeah, we should," Spencer answered, equally breathless. You turned in his arms, goosebumps rising across you skin as his hands slid down low on your hips, holding you close to him, holding you exactly where Luke's hands had earlier. You shivered at the touch, your head falling back in its own volition as Spencer buried his face in your neck, nosing your hair out of the way, his soft, warm breath caressing your skin.

The two of you bowled through the open door, you only having just enough time to slap the lightswitch on before Spencer shut the door with a firm thud and crowded you against it. Your hands immediatley found their way back into his hair as he reclaimed your mouth, cupping your jaw while his other hand slid further down your hip. You opened up your lips to him with a soft groan as his thumb applied a little pressure to your cheek, and you couldn't help but sink into him, back arching. Your mind was flooded with dopamine, the soft haze across your senses growing thicker the longer you had Spencer's hands on you.

You let out a shuddering sigh of pleasure as Spencer's lips drifted from yours and moved across your cheek, across your jaw, and down your neck, nibbling and sucking at your sensitive skin. Your head lolled to the side, offering him everything he wanted, and you twisted your fingers deeper into his soft curls. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the rasp of his stubble against your neck, and you couldn't stop the breathy "Spencer..." that escaped your lips at a particularly sharp nip. He immediatley returned to your lips, needing to taste his name on your tongue.

A particularly strong squeeze of your upper thigh had your hips stutter up against his, you then feeling just how much he was responding to you, and a salacious grin stretched your lips as he gasped at the friction. His breath caught in the space between you, and you chased him, recapturing him with hunger.

"Dinner," he breathed, and you stilled against him for a second as your brain tried to fight through the haze clouding your mind.

"What?" you asked, breathlessly. You dismissed him, surging up to kiss him again, but he leant back just out of reach, watching you with glazed eyes. You stared back up at him, totally aware of how wrecked you look, but not caring. Spencer had done this to you, and you weren't going to hide how he made you feel. You slipped your hands from his hair, resting your forearms on his shoulders. They heaved beneath your touch. 

He leaned in closer, and you swallowed heavily, your heart pounding. "Have dinner with me," he whispered against your lips, his voice rough. He wasn't asking - he was ordering. The hand that was cupping your face mirrored its twin and slipped down to rest on your empty hip, your body shifting instinctively at the touch.

You brought a hand up to rest on his cheek, your fingertips grazing the curve of his high cheekbones, and you watched his bottom lip go lax beneath the brush of your thumb against the plush skin, pulling oh so gently to expose the glistening, wet skin of his inner lip. You flicked your eyes back up to his to find him staring back at you, his dark eyes scanning your face, darting between your eyes, your lips, and then back to your eyes.

"Italian?" you requested, and the grin he gave you was infectious. He closed the gap between you once more. The kiss he pressed to your lips could not have been more different from the ones mere moments ago. It was gentle, barely there, just a simple press of lips that somehow left you more breathless than his lips assaulting your neck or his hands squeezing low on your hips.

"It's a date," he replied.


End file.
